Simply Sinful (29 page)

“Open the oil and coat your fingers with it.”

She obeyed him, her mind enthralled with his confidence and the strange sense of power she felt when she looked at James tied up in front of her. Who would’ve guessed that her big, bold husband would enjoy being loved like this? And it was love, not hate that they were sharing.

“Slide your fingers inside him.”

She hesitated, her hand barely touching James’s buttock.

“Please, Abby,” James murmured.

She closed her eyes and slid two fingers inside him. He groaned and moved his hips, pushing her fingers deeper.

“More, Abby, give me more.”

She looked at Peter, who was watching intently. He handed her the thick jade phallus they’d purchased in Southampton.

“Try this.”

She removed her fingers and slowly slid the jade in a few inches. James arched his back and moaned.

“God, that’s good.”

Peter touched her arm. “Now move it back and forth like a real cock while I attend to him.” She waited tensely until Peter knelt in front of James and licked at James’s straining cock.

“Now, Abigail.”

She began to slide the phallus in and out, craning to look around James’s torso as Peter took James’s cock in his mouth and sucked hard. James shuddered and rocked into each rough motion, his biceps straining as he allowed his body to absorb their ministrations. He grunted, his buttock muscles tightening.

“Stop, Abigail.”

James was panting now, sweat gleaming on his chest and back, his cock so full and purple it looked painful. Peter stood up, stepped back as if to admire his handiwork.

“Did Mr. Hodges use toys on you like this?”

“Yes.”

“How long was it generally before you climaxed?”

James shuddered. “As long as he wanted. All night. Sometimes he’d send me home unsatisfied and then start again the next morning.”

“I admire your resilience.”

Abby shivered. “But that’s cruel; why did you let him do that to you?”

“Because it gave me pleasure.”

“Pleasure?”

Peter smiled at her. “Pleasure means different things to different people. I never enjoyed what James is describing and you probably wouldn’t either.” He tugged James’s nipple. “But look at him, Abigail. He’s loving every second of this.”

Abby studied James’s profile. True he’d bitten his lip ragged, but he wasn’t begging to be set free. He was begging for more.

“Come here, Abigail. Leave the phallus; James likes it there, remember?”

She walked around the rack to stand with Peter, who slowly removed her shirt and uncovered her breasts. He stood behind her so that she faced James, one hand fondling her breasts, the other inside her breeches cupping her sex.

“She’s wet, James. Wet from watching you. Does that please you?”

James lifted his head to stare at Abby. He licked his lips.

“Yes.”

“Would you let her do this to you? Tie you up? Whip you?”

“Yes, if she wanted to.”

Peter kissed Abby’s neck. “And what would you give her in return for such kindness?”

James swallowed hard. “Anything.”

Abby gasped as Peter slid two fingers inside her and pumped them back and forth. His thumb settled over her clit, sending her into a fast climax.

“James would give you anything if you’d do this to him, isn’t that good to know? You could keep him good and hard all night until he was desperate to come and then let him inside you, let him spill his seed deep inside you and give you children.”

Abby stared at James, her body still quivering from her climax. She could master him like this. If she wanted to. Peter brought his hand out of her breeches, rubbed his wet fingers on James’s open mouth.

“She climaxes so well, doesn’t she? Don’t you wish you were her? Your body convulsing and spiraling into pleasure as your cum spurted over your belly?”

“God, yes.”

James shifted his feet, licked Abby’s cream off his lips.

“Luckily for you, we are not as demanding as Mr. Hodges. Because it is your birthday, we will allow you to come.” He gently pushed Abby down to her knees. “You take his cock, I’ll take his arse.”

Much later, Abby sat on James’s lap in the bedchamber in their town house. Peter had gone home, insisting he had business to attend to in the morning. Something about his casual explanation had bothered Abby, but he’d refused to enlighten her further. She sipped at the brandy James had given her and stared into the fire.

“Are you really all right, James?”

He smiled down at her, his fingers playing in her short hair. “That’s about the fifth time you’ve asked me that in the last hour.” He stretched his shoulders, settled her more deeply into his lap. “I feel wonderful. It’s the best birthday I’ve ever had.”

Abby fidgeted with the embroidered lapel of his green dressing gown.

“Do you think Peter wanted to show us how we might proceed without him?”

James stopped touching her hair. “It’s possible. I hadn’t thought of it like that.”

“I’m not sure I’d be comfortable doing those things to you all by myself.”

He chuckled, the sound reverberating in his chest. “You seemed to enjoy it at the time.”

“I did, but mainly because I was watching both of you, do you understand?”

He caught her chin in his fingers looked into her eyes.

“Peter was right, you know. I would give you as many children as you want if you could bring yourself to treat me badly once in a while.”

“How can you joke about something so important?”

“I’m not joking. I’d love you to tie me up and have your way with me.”

“Are you sure?”

His eyes narrowed. “I know what I want, Abby, even if you don’t.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He sat back, his gaze considering. “When are you going to admit that you’ve fallen in love with Peter?”

21

P
eter paused outside the steps leading up to the black front door of the solicitors’ office on Throgmorton Street. He hadn’t told the Beechams or the Sokorvskys where he was going. Valentin might have read the message before passing it on, but he was unlikely to turn up considering the current state of affairs between them.

He knocked and the door opened immediately. A young man with an engaging smile, who reminded him of Anthony, ushered him inside. The hallway was lined with oak paneling and painted an unattractive bottle green. A thin strip of carpet disappeared into the bowels of the house and up the narrow staircase.

“Have you come to see Mr. Davies?”

Peter handed over his hat and gloves. “I believe I have, if he is the solicitor for the Reverend William Howard.”

“That’s right, sir. Please follow me.”

An interesting mixture of cigar smoke and camphor floated out when the man opened the door, making Peter’s eyes water. He stepped into the small office. The Reverend Howard sat at his ease in front of the solicitor’s desk. Peter pinned on his most charming smile and shook the solicitor’s proffered hand.

“Good morning, gentleman. I hope I’m not late.”

“Not at all.”

Mr. Davies waved him to a chair beside his grandfather. He was a round bald man about the same age as the reverend, and he wore an old-fashioned tie wig that possibly explained the peculiar odor.

“I’m pleased to finally make your acquaintance. I’ve acted for this particular branch of the Howard family for many years.”

Peter nodded at William and sat down. The solicitor glanced at them both.

“The Reverend Howard has some family items he wishes you to have. He thought you might feel more comfortable meeting in this more neutral environment.”

Peter raised his eyebrows at Mr. Davies. “Really? I got the impression he didn’t wish to acknowledge I had any connection with his family at all. Why this sudden change of heart?”

William sat forward. “Mr. Howard, last time you walked out on me before I could explain myself properly. Will you at least do me the courtesy of staying long enough to allow me to finish?”

Peter let out a breath. “I apologize for that. Of course I will stay.”

William gestured at a small chest on the solicitor’s desk. “There are a few things in there that belonged to your mother. Things she left behind when she deserted us for the last time. My family wishes you to have them.”

“Thank you. That is very generous of you.”

William shrugged. “There is nothing of value, just a few girlish trinkets and the miniature we commissioned for her sixteenth birthday. Not that she ever saw that.”

“May I see her picture?”

Mr. Davies rummaged in the box and drew out a small velvet pouch. He handed it to Peter. Inside was a small gold frame surrounding a portrait. Peter stared for an endless moment at the image of his mother aged sixteen. He could see a likeness both to himself and to the older man sitting beside him.

His throat tightened. She looked so innocent, so untouched.

“She was beautiful.”

“Indeed she was, although she did not perhaps use her beauty wisely.”

Peter put the portrait back in its bag and tossed it onto the desk.

“Because she fell in love?”

“Lily didn’t fall in love. She just wanted to escape what she considered a boring existence.” William pointed at the box. “Read her diary. She explains exactly what she wanted to do and how she intended to do it.”

“Are you suggesting that any man would’ve done?”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

“So I am not even a child of love but one born of greed and misguided ambition?”

“Lily did not love wisely. She seemed incapable of understanding exactly what love meant.”

“She sounds rather like me.”

William gave him a sharp look. “I doubt that.”

Peter stared at the old man, saw the lines of fatigue around his mouth, the shadows under his eyes. He was not the only one suffering here. He needed to remember that.

“Thank you for my mother’s things. Was there anything else you wanted to tell me?”

William frowned. “Don’t be in such a rush, young man. I’ve spoken to my wife and to my other children and they would like to meet you.”

“With your approval?” Peter couldn’t keep the note of surprise out of his voice, didn’t even try to.

“Of course.”

“Please forgive me if this sounds disrespectful, but you shut my mother out of your life, forced her into a life of prostitution and finally into leaving the country. Why would you want to acknowledge me now?”

William’s face flushed an unsightly red.

“Excuse me, Mr. Howard, if I might intervene?”

Peter tore his gaze away from his grandfather’s to look at the solicitor.

“Reverend Howard might not wish to explain this, but that is not the case. Your mother was set up in a cottage close to her old home with a couple to care for her and the baby. She also received a more-than-generous allowance from her father.”

“Who didn’t wish her to darken his door.”

“Again, Mr. Howard, that isn’t true. Lily insisted she wanted to live her own life. I have correspondence from her in my files detailing exactly how she wanted to live and the allowance she expected her father to pay her. You are welcome to look at it.” Mr. Davies sighed. “At the beginning, I think she hoped her lover might return, find her financially independent and available and take her back.”

Peter deliberately turned to his grandfather. “This isn’t what you told me before. You implied that you made all the decisions to exclude my mother from your life.”

“I was trying to protect her memory. To make you believe that I had been at fault.”

“Why?”

“Because I thought it might be better for you to have some unsullied memories of your mother.” William grimaced. “My wife believed otherwise. She insisted, with impeccable female logic, that you deserved to know the truth and that you were old enough to accept it.”

Peter nodded, his attention riveted on the older man.

“So why did my mother leave this paradise?”

William shifted in his seat. “Because I refused to pretend you didn’t exist.”

“I don’t understand.”

Reluctantly, William’s pale blue eyes met his. “After a few years, Lily wanted a Season in London. She decided she was tired of waiting for her man to return. She wanted to pretend nothing had happened and that she was free and marriageable once more.”

Peter swallowed hard, a sick sensation growing in his stomach.

“When I refused, she ran away again, leaving you behind. We tried to persuade her to come back, but it was useless. She preferred to use her body and her beauty to get what she wanted in London. And God forgive me, we decided you were better off where you were rather than gallivanting along in your mother’s unsteady wake.”

“But she came back for me.”

“She came back, yes.”

Peter gripped the arms of his chair. “Tell me the rest. I’d rather hear it all.”

“She wanted more money, a dowry to set her up with a new man who had promised to marry her. I reminded her of your existence and that she had a responsibility to care for you. After a long argument, I agreed to pay her the money if she took you with her and brought you into her new home and life.”

Peter stared at his clenched hands, his breathing shallow, his focus turned in on himself. He’d perfected the art during his time as a slave when a client became too demanding or a beating too severe. Nothing, however, could stop him from hearing the words. He slowly exhaled.

“The clerk at the shipping office said my mother claimed to have no money. That she was sending me to relatives in Russia to keep me safe.” He met William’s gaze. “She lied, didn’t she? She had no intention of taking me with her. She just decided to get rid of me.”

Peter got to his feet, walked across to the small grimy window and stared out onto the busy street below. All seemed normal outside; the wind blew through the trees, people hurried about their business. He turned back when his grandfather cleared his throat.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Howard—Peter, if I may. If I’d known what she intended to do to you, I would never have given her that money.” William covered his face with his hand. “God help me, but I chose to believe her lies because it was easier than to fight with her. She was still my child, my little girl.”